


With or Without You

by Leloi



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cabin Pressure Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 12:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10386984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leloi/pseuds/Leloi
Summary: If John was to pinpoint when things started to change, it was when an older gentleman walked into their sitting room.  His hair was silver and his body solid.  Sherlock froze and stared at their client from where he stood at the mirror.“Well… Hello.”  The client greeting in a deep voice.“Douglas…” Sherlock breathed.John looked between the two men.  Douglas stared at Sherlock with an intensity that made John think of hunger and desire.  Sherlock’s demeanor was meek and almost frightened to see the silver haired man.“I’m sorry… We haven’t been introduced.  I’m John Watson and you are…?”“This is Douglas Richardson.”  Sherlock answered as he turned around to face both men.  “He’s an airline pilot.  Douglas, this is my partner, John.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Recently I bought Cabin Pressure A to Z on CD. I've been listening to it in my car on my commutes. There is a scene in which Douglas fills the flight deck with flowers and Martin asks if he is planning to propose to him. Douglas says they are for another man and Martin gets adorably flustered, "What does he have that I don't?" 
> 
> I have also been thinking about Sherlock's sexuality. Some things he says makes you wonder... Like the comment about helping a chip vendor hang shelves (which means booty call). 
> 
> So I mashed it all up. Enjoy!

If John was to pinpoint when things started to change, it was when an older gentleman walked into their sitting room. His hair was silver and his body solid. Sherlock froze and stared at their client from where he stood at the mirror. 

“Well… Hello.” The client greeting in a deep voice.

“Douglas…” Sherlock breathed.

John looked between the two men. Douglas stared at Sherlock with an intensity that made John think of hunger and desire. Sherlock’s demeanor was meek and almost frightened to see the silver haired man.

“I’m sorry… We haven’t been introduced. I’m John Watson and you are…?”

“This is Douglas Richardson.” Sherlock answered as he turned around to face both men. “He’s an airline pilot. Douglas, this is my partner, John.”

“Your partner?” Douglas looked John over, sizing him up. “This is the John you talk to in your sleep?” From the look on Douglas’ face, it seemed he found John lacking.

At that moment Rosie woke from her nap. The monitor came to life with her cries and John hurried from the room and up the stairs to her cot. Picking her up, he checked her nappy before carrying her downstairs with him. When he returned to the sitting room he found Douglas and Sherlock continuing to stare at each other. Sherlock sat in his chair and Douglas sat across from him in John’s chair.

Douglas broke eye contact with Sherlock to focus on John and the toddler. “I didn’t know you had a baby, Martin.”

John set Rosie at the table and gave her lunch.

“Rosie is John’s daughter.” Sherlock answered as if he was named Martin.

“How old is she?”

“Thirteen months.” Sherlock answered. “Douglas, why are you here?”

Douglas sat back in John’s chair. “I heard about the famous Sherlock Holmes that solved cases. I had a case… A case of the missing airline pilot, Captain Martin Crieff. He went missing, you see. He took a job and no one has seen him since. Odd, really. I thought I might hire you to find him but it seems I have discovered by accident where he has gone.”

“I’m sorry, Douglas. There was never a man named Martin Crieff.”

“You couldn’t tell me?” Douglas murmured softly. “I cared about you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was like our night together never happened.”

Sherlock bowed his head and blushed. The words and the reaction startled John. Was Douglas saying that he and Sherlock had been together physically? John always thought that Sherlock liked women… Or at least one woman… A lesbian dominatrix. Come to think of it, that was bizarre because it wasn’t like she would get anything from their relationship since she was attracted to other women.

“I’m sorry, Douglas.” Sherlock’s words pulled John from his thoughts.

“Arthur misses you, you know.”

“How is he?” Sherlock asked.

“Brilliant.” Douglas answered. Both men seemed to find that funny and giggled together, leaving John feeling left out.

“Give him my love.” Sherlock smiled at Douglas.

“Will do.” Douglas answered. Getting up from the chair, he offered his hand to Sherlock, helping him to his feet. The older man leaned in and kissed Sherlock on the lips and for a moment John was helpless to watch desperate snogging. It was worse than Sherlock kissing Janine because Sherlock kissed the older man back. Douglas broke the kiss. “I am here in London for a few days. Have dinner with me.”

Sherlock bit his lips and nodded.

“I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too.”

“Dinner.” Douglas gave him a soft kiss. “And a dirty shag.” There was another kiss before Douglas pulled away.

They exchanged information and Douglas left.

The flat was silent as John sat with Rosie in the kitchen and Sherlock stood, alone in the sitting room. 

It wasn’t like they were together. They worked together. On occasion John and Rosie spent the night in John’s old room when a case dragged on. Despite what Mary had alluded to, they were not the Baker Street Boys in the plural sense because only Sherlock lived in the flat. They weren’t a couple, their relationship was strained after John beat the crap out of Sherlock. Sherlock claimed he had forgiven, but John felt guilt for taking his anger out on the man. It didn’t help that Sherlock flinched when John moved too suddenly as if he anticipated another attack. John knew he didn’t deserve to know whom Sherlock dated or spent time with.

Sherlock sat down on his chair.

John picked up Rosie and carried her to the sitting room, setting her down on the floor as he sat on the couch.

“I met him while I was undercover those two years… I played the part of an airline pilot. He was my first officer. I flew to various places where Moriarty had agents.” Sherlock’s voice was soft.

“It doesn’t matter.” John assured him. But it did matter. John always suspected that Sherlock spent his time after the jump having the time of his life without John around to hold him back. It seemed he had a torrid love affair with someone. Always he had imagined the Woman or Moriarty. Never had he imagined a silver haired airline pilot that stood two inches taller than the detective. It never even occurred to John that Sherlock’s preferences would be taller, older men.

“Of course it matters.” Sherlock stated quietly. “Tell me not to go out tonight and I won’t.”

John shook his head, knowing he had no right to dictate what Sherlock did anymore, not after everything that happened with Mary and Eurus. “I won’t stop you.”

Sherlock gave him a hard, complicated look that reminded him of when he asked him to be his best man. 

“Alright…” Sherlock breathed. “Lock up when you leave.” Getting up, the detective retreated to his bedroom.

John had every intention of following those instructions. But the more he dug into their case, the more time passed. Looking up at the clock, he realized it was getting late. Rosie had already had dinner and she was sleeping upstairs in John’s old bedroom. It was too late to pack her up and take her back to their house. So John did what he often did in that sort of situation. He slept in his old bed. 

In the middle of the night he woke and his bladder was heavy. Making his way down the stairs and into the flat he heard a noise coming from Sherlock’s bedroom. There was a soft moan and heavy breathing. John tiptoed to the open door and waited to hear more, unsure what was going on in Sherlock’s bedroom.

“John…” His name was spoken in a moan. It sent chills down his spine. For a moment there was an adrenaline rush that he had been discovered and his name was a warning to stay away. But then he heard the other man’s soft chuckle. 

“You should really be a little more aware of who you are in bed with.”

“Bloody hell…” Sherlock responded.

“For that I’m not going to let you finish until you beg me. I’m just going to do this…”

Sherlock whimpered and John feared that he was being harmed. Leaning closer to the door he looked in and saw Sherlock on his knees, shoulders to the bed. His head was facing the door and he was completely naked. Douglas was behind him and it was obvious from his position that he was using his tongue to lick Sherlock’s arse.

John felt his own cock harden with interest as he watched Sherlock obviously enjoy what Douglas did to him.

“Please…” Sherlock whined. 

“What was that?” Douglas asked as John leaned away so they wouldn’t see him if they happened to glance towards the open door.

“I want…” Sherlock whimpered.

“What is it you want, Martin?”

“Douglas… Please…”

“Very well… Since you said ‘please.’”

There was movement and Sherlock gave a soft, long groan. The movement sound continued. John debated whether or not he should sneak away or lean in and find out what it was Sherlock wanted. Curiosity got the better of him and he leaned in. Immediately he wished he hadn’t looked. But once he started, he found he could not stop.

Sherlock was on his hands and knees, Douglas taking him from behind, holding onto his hips to pull him back into him. Both men had their eyes closed.

Suddenly Sherlock opened his eyes and blinked, focusing on John’s presence in the doorway. They stared at each other for a long moment. Finally Sherlock’s eyes rolled back in his head and he gave a soft moan. One hand reached down to stroke himself. John leaned back just as Sherlock orgasmed. 

John held his breath, trying not to breathe too loudly and alert Douglas that he was in the hallway. Taking a careful step back and then another, he turned around and quietly made his way back down the hall and returned to the extra bedroom where Rosie slept. It was only after he got there that he realized that he still needed to pee. For a minute he debated packing up Rosie and making a run for it. But his bladder was heavy. So he did the only thing a man could do in the situation, he stomped his way down the stairs and into the flat. Thump, thump, thump. With a clear intent he made his way down the hall to the bathroom and opened the door, only to find it occupied by a very naked Douglas.

Douglas raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Well, hello.”

“I need to pee!” John barked out. “Now.”

Douglas glanced at the toilet and then scooted closer to the sink so John could get by.

John made a dash for the toilet and lifted the lid. Desperately he tried not to think about the older naked man and what he had been doing to Sherlock not even five minutes before. Again he had to remind himself that none of this was any of his business. John had no right to say anything after what he had done.

“Do you often listen at the door when he’s with someone?” Douglas asked casually.

John slammed down the lid and turned to face the naked, older man. “What?”

“You were at the bedroom door.”

“I…” John was shocked.

“I’m good… But not that good. He finishes in under ten seconds if he’s thinking about you.” Douglas stated. “I also saw your shadow on the door.”

“How do you know that he…?” John started to ask, suspicious.

“I’ve watched him take matters into his own hand. I know what name he calls out. He saw you and he finished.” Douglas smirked and took a step closer to John. “He calls out your name a lot.”

The door to the bedroom opened and Sherlock stood in all his naked glory. “Douglas… Shut up.” Nervously he gave John a glance before holding the door open. “Come to bed.”

“As Sir wishes…” Douglas sauntered into the bedroom.

John took his place at the sink to wash his hands, aware that Sherlock remained in the doorway, closing the door behind him so Douglas could not be privy to their conversation.

“I thought you went home.” Sherlock stated.

John lathered up and rinsed. There was something harsh in knowing that 221B Baker Street wasn’t his home. Neither of them had said it before that moment. “I shouldn’t have listened.” John stated and left the bathroom to return to the bedroom upstairs. Once again he thought about packing up Rosie and leaving with her. But John Watson wasn’t a coward and he would prove to himself he could face Sherlock the next morning.

^.~

“You’re in love with him.”

“Don’t be silly, Douglas…” Sherlock’s voice came through the door to 221B. 

John paused outside the door with Rosie on his hip and her bag over his shoulder.

“I know you. It was never me you wanted. It was him. What stops you?” Douglas responded.

“It’s platonic.” Sherlock’s tone was soft and broken. “It’s always been platonic. I hoped for something more but then… Then despite knowing how I felt about him he got married and had a child with her.”

“You know, Martin… That just sounds like an excuse.”

“I’m his best friend… A brother… He doesn’t want to see me as a lover.”

John held his breath, listening at the door. His chest ached and there was a lump in his throat. Sherlock loved him! Hastily he wiped away the dampness from the corners of his eyes.

At that moment Rosie lost her patience and gave a loud squeal of protest that her father waited too long outside of the door. It was time for her breakfast.

“What was that?” Douglas asked, footsteps heading towards the door.

John panicked, unsure which way to go. If he went inside they would know he was listening. If he left then Rosie would be upset that she hadn’t been fed.

The door opened and John found himself staring up at Douglas who was, thankfully, dressed. “Morning.”

Douglas stepped aside to reveal Sherlock sitting on the couch. “Good morning.” Quickly he returned to Sherlock and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of the detective’s head. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

“Thank you, Douglas.” Sherlock answered, watching the older man leave the flat before focusing on John.

John hesitated at the door for a moment before making a beeline for the kitchen to find something to feed Rosie.

There was a long, awkward silence as Rosie happily picked cereal bits off the table and put them in her mouth one by one. John watched her as if it were the most fascinating activity he had ever seen.

“Good morning.” Mrs. Hudson greeted as she entered the flat. “I thought I heard the door close. Hello, John… Rosie.”

Rosie sat with her hand to her mouth and grinned at the older woman. “Nana.”

Mrs. Hudson swooped in and scooped her up to press a kiss on her cheek. “Will you be needing someone to…?” The question was left hanging.

Usually John only used Mrs. Hudson as a babysitter when they had a case. But that morning he wanted to speak to Sherlock in private. “Yes, please. Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.”

Mrs. Hudson took Rosie’s bag and headed for the door. “Come along, little flower. I have some freshly baked biscuits.” And she was gone down the stairs before John could protest the nutritional value of biscuits for breakfast.

John shut the door and locked it to make sure there would be no interruptions. “About last night…”

Sherlock stared across the room, hands clasped in his lap.

“It’s none of my business… I really had to use the toilet and your room is right there.”

Sherlock remained silent.

“I didn’t mean to… To see that. You should have closed your door.”

“I thought you went home.” Sherlock finally answered.

Again, there was the implication that Baker Street wasn’t home. It felt like a stab to John’s stomach. “Yeah… Well… I was working and Rosie fell asleep so I took her up to our bedroom.” 

Sherlock was silent, continuing his stare across the room.

“He seems like a decent enough bloke. You met him when you were… Away, yeah?” For a moment he wanted to say “dead.” “He’s… Nice.”

Sherlock’s gaze shifted to John.

“Do you love him?”

“No.” Sherlock answered.

John frowned at the thought of Sherlock having sex with someone he didn’t love.

“I mean he’s a friend… But that’s it. He has a history of one night stands. I’m just another conquest for him.”

John frowned at the words. “That’s…”

“It could be worse…” 

“How?” John demanded.

Sherlock kept John’s gaze. “There’s been worse.” The words spoke of something darker in Sherlock’s past. It made John shiver.

John’s mind conjured up Sherlock on his knees in some alley, choking on a drug dealer’s cock to earn his next fix. 

“It’s not as bad as you imagine.” Sherlock stated.

“How do you know what I’m imagining?”

“I never used my body to pay for drugs.” Sherlock answered.

“Sherlock…” John took a step closer and when Sherlock flinched at his sudden move he took a step back. “I’m sorry.”

Sherlock closed his eyes and shook his head with a sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is!” John insisted. “I shouldn’t have hit you. You have every right to be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” Sherlock answered.

“Then why do you flinch?” John demanded.

Sherlock shook his head. “Come here. I promise I won’t flinch.”

John obeyed, taking a step closer. 

“Sit here.” Sherlock indicated the spot next to where he sat on the couch.

John sat down.

“See? No flinching.”

John suddenly leaned in and pressed his lips to Sherlock’s mouth. Now was the moment of truth. Either Sherlock would push him away and demand that he leave, or he would kiss John back. The doctor had to know after what he heard less than an hour before. Because he ached to be with Sherlock. If there was a possibility that Sherlock could want him, then he would take it. Desperately, hungrily, he needed this kiss even if it was to be their only kiss.

Sherlock hummed but did not pull away. His mouth opened and he licked John’s lips to tease him into deepening the kiss. 

And John wanted Sherlock. Sherlock moaned John’s name when he fucked other men… John wanted to hear his own name as a breathless moan. Hastily he broke the kiss and pushed the detective back on the couch. Rearranging himself, he tugged at the waistband of Sherlock’s pajama bottoms and exposed his cock. There was barely enough time to admire it before he swallowed it down, bobbing on it to the sound of Sherlock’s cry of surprise.

“John… John… I’m going to… It’s too fast. I can’t…” 

John swallowed and swallowed. Douglas had been right. The experience only lasted ten seconds. Carefully he pulled up, cleaning the organ with his tongue. Looking up, he saw that Sherlock had a combination of both awe and sadness on his face. John sat up and kissed him. “Did you like it?”

“It was over too soon.” It came out as a whine.

“Next time will be longer.”

Sherlock whimpered and flopped back on the couch, his head on the armrest. “When will that be?”

“In about twenty minutes when you’ve recovered from this.” John answered as he pulled back up Sherlock’s pajama bottoms. 

“May I ask why we did this?”

“You moan my name when you fuck other men.” John answered. A part of him wanted to see Sherlock’s reaction to the word “fuck.”

Sherlock stared back at him, a faint smile on the corner of his lips. 

“You cheat on them with me and I didn’t even know it.” Sherlock’s smile left John feeling like butterflies were in his insides. “What have you to say for yourself?”

“In my mind I am only fucking you.” 

Instantly John was fully hard. The vulgar words on Sherlock’s tongue and the thought of being on the detective’s mind excited him in ways he didn’t know he could be excited. “Jeez, Sherlock…”

Sherlock bit his lips, amusement on his face as his fingers touched the waistband of his pajama bottoms. Slowly he pushed them down, exposing his pubic hair.

It was all the hint John needed. Quickly he pulled the bottoms down and tossed them aside, leaving Sherlock exposed from the waist down. “You want me?”

“Yes.” Sherlock whispered, pulling John against him in an embrace. “Can I have you?”

“All you had to do was ask.”

Sherlock grunted and tightened his hold on John’s back.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this in here.” John murmured against Sherlock’s neck.

“You locked the door.”

“I locked the door…” John echoed. His hand slipped down Sherlock’s body, encountering smooth, warm skin below his t-shirt. Hip met thigh at a delightful crease and the doctor explored there, teasing the upper, inner thigh.

Sherlock moaned and opened his thigh wider. “Do it… Touch me.”

John was amused by Sherlock’s demand. But his fingers burrowed in between them, encountering pubic hair. Adjusting his position he was able to reach down, following the curve of Sherlock’s inner thigh to the crease of his bottom. Fingers dipped into someplace warm, and slick. Alarmed, John pulled his hand back and looked at his fingers. 

“Oh… That…” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “He used a condom.”

And then it dawned on John that Sherlock was open and lubricated because of something he must have done with Douglas only a short time before. “Sherlock…”

“You won’t even need to prepare me.” Sherlock answered.

John shook his head, rubbing his slick fingers together to feel the viscosity.

“He used a condom, John. You won’t be needing one.”

“I won’t?” John looked to him in surprise.

“I know your status.”

“Sherlock…” John sat up and touched Sherlock’s open thighs.

Sherlock tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it away so he was fully exposed on the couch with his head on the arm and his thighs open. 

John was torn. As much as he desperately wanted to take Sherlock on the couch, a part of him was disturbed at the idea of being the second man to bugger the detective in the past hour. What if he hurt Sherlock? 

“John… For once in your life don’t think about it. Please… Please just give me this. I’ll never ask for it again if that’s what you want. I only need once.”

John frowned at the words. What was Sherlock going on about it being only once?

“John?” Sherlock managed to sit up, facing the doctor.

John nodded. “Alright.”

Sherlock offered him a warm, gentle smile he rarely showed anyone aside from John, Rosie, or Mrs. Hudson. The detective lay back down on the couch, dropping his foot to the floor, the other knee resting against the back cushion. “Shall I roll over for you?”

“You are fine…” John answered distractedly as he reached down and touched the open, slick orifice. Two fingers easily slid in so he added a third.

“Better hurry before I cum again.” Sherlock noted. Sure enough his penis was already beginning to show some interest in their activities.

“How many times will that be in the past hour?”

“Four.” Sherlock answered automatically.

John pulled his fingers out. “Jeez, Sherlock. Four times?!”

Sherlock’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Is that not good?”

John rubbed the bridge of his nose with his clean hand. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“To be fair… Once was just now with you. And the fourth hasn’t happened yet. The first time with Douglas and the other time was on my own with him watching.”

“You like to be watched?”

“Douglas has a way of having me do things I wouldn’t normally do.” Sherlock replied. “He had me describe what he called my ‘ultimate fantasy.’”

“What is your ultimate fantasy?” 

“You don’t have that power over me, John.” Sherlock grinned at him. “Take off your trousers and your pants.”

John stood up and obeyed, removing his clothing before sitting on the couch between Sherlock’s legs. “You aren’t going to tell me?”

“To be honest I always imagined a lot less talking and a lot more going at it like animals at the zoo during mating season.”

John rolled that statement around in his head for a moment, imagining Sherlock researching animal mating practices at the zoo.

“You are a very physical man if your punches are anything to go by…” Sherlock continued. “There should be less social intercourse and more actual mating.”

“More… ‘Me Tarzan, you Jane?’” John quoted.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and reached out to pull John down on top of him. “Be quiet and come here.”

John propped himself up on his elbows and knees, careful not to put his full weight on Sherlock. “I’m not allowed to say anything?”

“You can talk to me afterwards.”

“Your fantasy is that I just have my way with you without speaking to you?” John frowned.

Sherlock stared up at him silently.

John knew when he was defeated. With care he arranged Sherlock’s hips and eased into the tight, slick heat. In awe he watched as Sherlock’s eyes fluttered shut and he rolled back his head in pure bliss or agony.

“John…” His name came out in a breathy moan.

Once he was fully inside he paused, staring down at the man below him. “Sherlock? You should know… I love you too.”

Sherlock cried out and writhed beneath John, his penis once again filling out.

“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember… Drawn to you from the beginning…” John kissed under Sherlock’s chin. “I just thought…”

Sherlock clung to him, wrapping his arms and legs around John’s body as if to bring him closer and deeper. “Take me…”

John began a slow, gentle rhythm, aware that Sherlock’s hands reached down to hold his bottom, attempting to pull him into something faster. But he resisted.

The detective gave an inelegant moan of frustration. “Take me!”

“I am.”

“I am not some delicate flower.”

“I know that… I just…” John began but soon found his mouth occupied by Sherlock’s lips and tongue. John relaxed, feeling the tight heat around him. It was something he never imagined he would ever feel. And too soon it was over. Desperately he tried to hold back but he couldn’t. His body pulsed with his orgasm and he clung to the warmth below him. 

Sherlock gave a whimper of frustration and very soon John found himself face down on the floor. His penis leaked onto the rug as the detective pushed his erection between his arse cheeks and began to rut.

There was something primal about having his body used in such a way. John tried not to think about what sort of filth was on the rug… Thinking about it made everything feel dirtier. “Fuck…”

Sherlock eagerly slid against John’s crease and leaned down to bite down on the back of his neck.

The sensation was almost too much on John’s sensitive cock. With a whimper he went limp, opening his knees wider for Sherlock to work against him. 

“I’m… I’m… John…” Sherlock licked at John’s neck and reached down to change his cock’s position, practically pushing the tip to John’s hole. Then came warm wetness and Sherlock’s gasps and moans. His teeth once again took the flesh at the back of John’s neck.

John closed his eyes, feeling the weight of Sherlock’s limp body against his back, softening erection still pressing into him. Something about it was comforting. And yet the scent on the rug made him aware of how dirty they were.

“John…” Sherlock murmured, rubbing his lips against John’s shoulder. “We should take a shower… Together.”

“I’d like that.” John admitted.

Sherlock pulled back and helped John up, wrapping his arms around the other man. “Is this real? Tell me it’s real.”

“It’s real.” John answered.

Sherlock got to his feet, pulling John up with him and leading him to the bathroom. Very carefully the detective washed John from head to foot as if he feared the doctor would disappear or break. When both were sufficiently clean Sherlock stepped out of the shower and dried John with a towel before drying himself. There was a moment of hesitation before he opened the door to his bedroom and led John inside. 

John was faced with the unmade bed Sherlock and Douglas had used the night before. Nevertheless he followed where Sherlock led and obediently climbed in despite the smell of sex on the sheets. 

Sherlock wrapped himself around him, resting his wet curls against John’s shoulder. “Next time we’ll change the sheets.”

“I… I don’t mind.” Really, he did. But he was concerned he would be asked to leave the bed and never return. 

“You do mind… But the only bodily fluids on this bed are my own. He wore a condom.” 

There was still something a little dirty about the idea, but knowing the musky scent was Sherlock’s made things easier to accept. John kissed the top of his curly head. “We have to get up soon and interview clients.”

“Mmm…” Sherlock hummed, rubbing his nose against John’s chest. “Not anything under a five today.”

John smiled and kissed the top of his head. “I say… A six at least.”

“Seven.” Sherlock smiled and made himself comfortable. Soon they both dozed, curled up together in Sherlock’s musky bed.

^.~

“Good for you, Martin. You finally acted on your love.”

John woke and looked around, finding himself naked and alone in Sherlock’s bed. His clothes were gone and he remembered he had left them in the living room. Hastily he searched Sherlock’s wardrobe and found his spare robe to slip into before leaving the sanctuary of the bedroom.

Sherlock sat in his chair wearing a sheet. Douglas sat in John’s chair. Both looked to John as he entered the room.

Douglas smiled. “Congratulations on taking what you want.” Getting up, he indicated that John should sit in the chair he vacated. “Take care of him.”

“I will.” John answered.

Douglas smiled fondly at Sherlock. “I’ll see you later.” And he was gone out the door as if he had never been there.

John stared down at Sherlock’s bare feet. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Why him?”

Sherlock took a deep breath and relaxed his hold on his sheet, allowing it to expose his chest. “I had nothing. No money… Barely adequate shelter. For the first time in my life I was hungry. And I worked for free. But I had to survive… Had to live another day and fly to where I needed to be. Douglas realized that I had nothing… And he offered me his cooking. When he divorced he offered me shelter. And then he offered me his bed. I’ve been with others before. Usually they just take what they want. But he gave. I also thought you would never want this from me. As you are fond of saying… You’re not gay. And he knew from the beginning what you were to me.” Sherlock gave a soft chuckle. “I often forgot myself and called him by your name.”

“You should have told me.”

“You married someone else. A woman. She gave you what I couldn’t.”

“And then she died and left me alone with a child.”

Sherlock bit his lips.

“She also made me aware that I was loved… By both of you.”

“You are not alone.”

John gave him a small smile. 

Sherlock slid onto the floor and shuffled closer to John’s chair, resting his hands on the other man’s thighs. “You have me.” His fingers undid the closure for the robe, exposing John to the room. But within moments he moved to cover John’s nakedness with his own. The sheet covered both of them. “I am yours.”

John liked the sensation of Sherlock between his thighs. His arms wrapped around the detective’s shoulders as he leaned up for a kiss. Their lips didn’t meet.

The door opened and Mrs. Hudson looked in. “Hullo… Oh my…”

Sherlock turned to look at the door. “Will you please knock next time?”

Mrs. Hudson stood with her hands covering her eyes. “You could lock your door!”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sherlock smirked.

“Is there something you need, Mrs. Hudson?” John asked, closing the robe under cover of Sherlock’s sheet.

“Molly is here to take Rosie. Do you have extra Rosie snacks?”

John managed to squeeze out from under Sherlock’s body and stood up just as Molly entered the flat, holding Rosie. “Just a moment.” Making sure the robe covered everything, he went to the kitchen and opened cabinets, looking for the food he had brought. It made a small pile on the table as Molly put them into Rosie’s bag. 

“I’m happy for you.” Molly whispered.

“It’s not what it looks like…” John answered, adding a box of Rosie’s favorite biscuits. 

“It’s always been you.” Molly blinked and looked down at the child in her arms. 

John finished packing the bag and handed it over to Molly. “See you at dinner.” Following both women and the child to the door, he kissed Rosie goodbye and locked the door behind them. A warm presence pressed up against his back and kissed his shoulder. “Poor Molly.”

A pair of arms wrapped around John from behind, holding him tight. 

“She loves you.”

Hands untied the robe sash and tugged at the fabric until it fell on the floor. A naked body pressed itself against John’s back.

“We never really talked about that phone call…”

“She knows how I feel about you.”

“Still…”

“Do you think she wants to hear your name while I’m with her?”

John shook his head. “No.” The blond turned to look back at the man pressed against him. “Would you do that?”

“It’s always your name…”

John turned around and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s waist. “My name you call when you fuck.”

Sherlock leaned down and kissed John’s lips, pushing his tongue into his mouth. “Come to bed.”

John giggled. “We can’t stay in bed all day.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him as if he found the idea to be strange.

“Alright… We can stay in bed all day.”

Sherlock led the way to the bedroom.

John lost count of how many times they came together that day. Mid-afternoon he found himself lounging against Sherlock’s back, tracing the scars he found there. “Where did these come from?”

“While I was gone…” Sherlock answered. “I don’t want to talk about them.”

John kissed the scar he had been tracing, aware that there were many more on Sherlock’s back. 

“Will you move back to Baker Street?”

“I thought I was already somewhat here.” John admitted.

“You’re not.”

“What about Rosie?”

“She can have your old room.”

“What about me?”

“We can share a room.”

“Just like that I’m living with you again?”

“Problem?”

John pulled out and rolled away onto his back. “How will we get any sleep?”

“Sleep is boring.”

John chuckled softly. “I do love you.”

Sherlock kissed him.

\--Fin

**Author's Note:**

> "With or Without You" by U2... My favorite U2 song (aside from Stay).


End file.
